The Lives and Times of Harry Potter
by AnnanInTheSky
Summary: 'For every life saved...' challenge  link in profile . A death promise and a love sacrifice gave Harry a life for every single life he saved. Death is not happy about this. Neither is Harry.
1. Chapter 1

THIS CHALLENGE:  
The Magic that destroyed Voldamort was two fold. Both required a sacrifice of life. The first was a sacrifice of protection written by death signed in love. For every life saved by this sacrifice, the receiver would gain another life to life to live. The second, was a contract of words. Asking for her life to be taken so her son would be spared. Voldamort killed Lily Potter activating both contracts. Voldamort killed Harry breaking the contract he made with Lily by killing her. The first contract Lily made came into effect and revived Harry. One slight problem though, Voldamort had plans that would have killed not thousands but millions. Death didn't quite take that revelation well. (Spelling mistakes are not my own - copy and paste, ftw)

* * *

Chapter One – Prologue

"_One day your life will flash before your eyes._

_Make sure it's worth watching."_

_- Anonymous_

"Move aside, silly girl." Voldemort snapped as he walked through the wrecked doorway. "I have no need to take your life."

"No! Please, not Harry..." Lily begged, shielding her son with her thin frame. The stress of living under the threat of death had taken its toll on her, and she looked pitifully weak standing before Voldemort at the height of his power.

"Stupefy!" Lily tried. Voldemort blocked it easily.

"Stop this foolishness!" Voldemort told her. "You are gaining nothing by it."

"Please, kill me, not Harry!" Lily begged.

"Fine." Voldemort hissed. "Avada Kedavra!"

Lily fell and Voldemort didn't notice the slight tingle of magic on his skin, her death-promise settling. Harry began to cry, the combination of his mother's death and the unsettling feeling of her dying magic blanketing him.

"Now for you, idiotic child." Voldemort smirked. "Avada Kedavra!"

There was a flash of light as the green spell hit Harry, the death-promise and Lily's magic activating before the green spell shot back the way it came.

* * *

Ciela blinked in surprise as she looked at the piece of paper sitting on her desk.

_Harry James Potter, aged 1 year. Death by Avada Kedavra to the head. Current status: Asleep._

"Doen!" She yelled. Doen walked in, his expression bored as per usual. It was difficult to find things interesting when you practically decided the future.

"Yes, Ciela?" Doen asked, studying his nails.

Ciela picked up the piece of paper. "How the hell do you explain this?"

Doen glanced over it. "What about it? A spell didn't work. So what?"

"Doen, I don't get given notices when the Avada Kedavra fails. I get given notices when the Avada Kedavra works." Ciela said. "This kid has done the impossible."

Doen yawned. "What does that have to do with me?"

"He was born at the end of the seventh month, you dolt. What have you done?" Ciela asked.

"What have I done?" Doen asked incredulously. "How do I have anything to do with this? Obviously this is a mess-up on your end, honey. _I _have nothing to do with dead people."

Ciela huffed angrily. "You know what? Stuff you. Go get Leben."

Leben poked his head into the room. "No need. What's up?"

"There's a child."

"... And?"

"He's alive."

"I fail to see what's so remarkable about that."

"He shouldn't be."

Leben sighed. "Let me go and get the file on him. What's his name?"

"Harry James Potter."

"Hmm, a common one. Parents?"

"Lily Evans and James Potter. They're both recently dead."

"Okay." Leben walked off whistling cheerfully and Doen quietly left. A few minutes later Leben returned with a thin folder in hand. "Well he hasn't been living very long – barely anything in the folder... oh, wait... it says he's immortal. That can't be right."

"He can't be immortal." Ciela said exasperatedly. "He's not allowed to be!"

"Hush hush, Ciela." Leben told her, flicking through the folder. "Aha! Here's the reason." He scanned the piece of parchment. "Interesting. His mother made a death-promise that the other party didn't honour. His mother also died to protect him, and created a protection spell tied to the death promise. When the other party broke the death-promise he was granted as many lives as he would save should he be successful at defeating whoever killed his mother..."

"How does that make him immortal?" Ciela asked. "Surely the guy can only kill twenty, thirty people before he gets caught, right? Mass murderers rarely get much higher than that."

"This guy has horcruxes, which explains why his name won't show – he's not in either of our domains." Leben ran his finger down the page as he read. "He's also a psychopath. Apparently young Mr Potter now has eight hundred thousand, two hundred and fourty seven lives. Not counting his own, which he just lost."

Ciela took a deep breath. "Leben, can I please just kill off all magical people? It would make all our lives so much easier-"

"No." Leben said, as if this conversation happened every day. Which it did.

"We haven't had a debacle like this since Grindelwald tried to create a new kind of Inferi." Ciela groaned.

"Stop complaining, girl." Leben shrugged. "Just make him die a lot in his life. He'll be fine. Maybe he'll live for an extra hundred years, oh well."

"It's not fair." Ciela pouted. All the extra paperwork she'd have to take care of...

Leben rolled his eyes. "For the love of chocolate, Ciela, you're _Death_. Death does not pout."

"Shut up."

* * *

Alrighty then. Just a few things:  
Ciela is the femininised form of Cielo, which is Italian for Heaven.  
Leben is German for life  
Doen was supposed to mean fate however after a few google searches to see what it really did mean I have gathered that Doen is the infinitive form of the Afrikaans verb 'to do'. I figure it's close enough.


	2. Chapter 2

Chapter Two

"_I am ready to meet my Maker. Whether my Maker is ready for the ordeal of meeting me is another matter."_

- _Winston Churchill_

Harry glanced behind him as he stepped out onto the road. He was attempting to escape from a two-hour long game of Harry Hunting, in which he had currently been caught four times and could already feel a whole barrage of bruises getting ready to form.

The screeching of tires snapped him back to real life and he grunted in pain as he hit the hood of a car, his spine bending in a sickening way as he tumbled over the roof and onto the ground with a thud, eyes glassy and heart no longer beating. The driver stopped, swore and took off as fast as possible.

Harry's whole lower half swung back into place before he blinked and groaned, his body aching ten times more than before. His entire back would be bruised tomorrow he could feel, and what's worse was that the car had scraped what felt like an entire layer of skin off his back.

Harry healed when he died, however he only healed just enough to not be dead anymore.

"Freak!" Dudley's voice rang out. Harry rolled over to see Dudley staring at him, eyes wide with fear but also sparkling with anticipation. Harry scrambled up but Dudley had already taken off at a sprint back to the house. By the time that Harry had gotten inside Dudley was talking.

"Mummy! The freak just healed himself!" He shrieked.

Petunia turned to him. "Did you?"

Harry bowed his head and Petunia swept past him, closing the door before grabbing Harry by his ear and throwing him into the cupboard.

"We'll have none of your freakishness, boy." She hissed.

Harry didn't understand why they insisted on punishing him like this. He couldn't help that he healed! It was completely involuntary!

He also seemed to have a lot more near-death accidents than to normal people. At one point he'd died every day of the week.

He settled back into the stale darkness of his cupboard and closed his eyes, imagining what his parents would be like. His mum would be beautiful and kind and she would have black hair like Petunia, but much more beautiful. He'd have his green eyes from his dad, and his dad would be fit and interesting and funny.

He fell asleep to those comforting thoughts, trying to ignore his pain.

True to form, the next day his entire back was blue with bruises. He nearly cried when he had to get up.

"Go get the mail, Freak. Quickly!" Vernon commanded him.

Harry had died a total of fifty two times since he'd started counting, which was two years ago. He figured that he could safely triple that figure and he'd have somewhere around the actual amount.

"Mail, boy!" Vernon yelled from the dining room.

"Coming, Uncle Vernon!" Harry called. He nearly missed the letter for him in the pile, made of thick parchment and with an actual wax seal.

_Harry Potter_

_The cupboard under the stairs_

_4 Privet Drive, Little Whinging, Surrey._

He was about to open it when he realised that his uncle would probably take it off of him - he'd gotten into his relatives' good graces after yesterday's accident. He put it in his cupboard quickly before going to the breakfast table and giving his uncle the mail.

"Boy, come here and finish cooking this bacon. Do not let it burn." Petunia warned.

Harry nodded, quietly doing as he was told until he was allowed to go back to his cupboard. He turned on the light that Petunia had made him install so she could see if it was clean before he opened the letter and began to read.

_HOGWARTS SCHOOL  
of WITCHCRAFT and WIZARDRY _

_Headmaster: Albus Dumbledore  
(Order of Merlin, First Class, Grand Sorc., Chf. Warlock,  
Supreme Mugwump, International Confed. of Wizards)_

_Dear Mr. Potter,  
We are pleased to inform you that you have been accepted at Hogwarts School of Witchcraft and Wizardry. Please find enclosed a list of all necessary books and equipment.  
Term begins on September 1. We await your owl by no later than July 31.  
Yours sincerely,_

_Minerva McGonagall  
Deputy Headmistress_

Harry blinked in surprise.

"Witchcraft and wizardry?" He frowned. Perhaps it was a joke. "Well what if it's not?" He mused aloud. "Oh, well. I'll ask Aunt Petunia." _It's not like I have anyone else to ask,_ he added mentally. He got out of the cupboard and went into the kitchen.

"Aunt Petunia?" He asked.

"What?" She snapped, looking up from her dishes.

"Um... what's Hogwarts?"

Petunia's face drained of colour. "What?"

"I found this letter. It was addressed to me. It says that I've been accepted into Hogwarts. Where's that? Is it real?"

Petunia shared a meaningful look with Vernon and grabbed Harry's shoulders, pushing him to his cupboard. "Pack your things. We're leaving."

"Why? It's just a letter." Harry asked.

Vernon walked over. "Do as you're told, boy!" He turned to Petunia. "They know where we live, don't they? Well, it's for Dudley's safety. I'll go pack Dudder's things."

Petunia nodded and began to gather up photos before going upstairs and packing her things.

"Where are we going, Mummy?" Dudley asked.

"Away." Petunia told him.

"But I don't want to go!"

"I know sweetheart, but it's the Freak's fault." Petunia told her son. "Tell you what, we'll get you McDonalds on the way out. Okay?"

Dudley smiled. "Okay."

"Good, my little man." Vernon smiled. "Go get in the car, will you?"

Once Dudley was gone, Vernon and Petunia turned to Harry.

"This is all. Your. Fault." Petunia hissed. "Get in the car and do not say a word or so help me God I will not be responsible for my actions."

Harry got into the car quietly, folding his arms angrily. What had he done wrong this time? Was this like the healing thing?

Petunia and Vernon got in the car and glared at Harry as Vernon pulled out of the driveway. Petunia took the letter and her cigarette lighter, lighting the paper on fire before throwing it out the window and driving off.

After a brief detour to McDonalds they drove into the countryside. Harry was beginning to get alarmed after six hours of driving when Dudley decided he'd had enough.

"Dad, where are we going? Are we there yet?"

Vernon grunted. "No."

"Vernon, Dudley is tired. We should stop for the night." Petunia said gently.

"No. We're not stopping." Vernon growled.

"Vernon we have enough time to sleep. We'll drive double the amount tomorrow." Petunia told him. "Please, Dudders needs his sleep - he's a growing boy."

Vernon sighed and pulled over at the nearest motel he saw. Dudley was thankfully too tired to realise he would be sharing a room with Harry and ate quietly before falling asleep. Harry was denied a meal and told to go explore while Petunia and Vernon set up.

Harry kicked around in the dirt in the lights of the motel for a while before spotting Ciela across the road.

"Hi!" He yelled. She waved and smiled, beckoning for him to come over. He trotted onto the road and got hit by a truck. The driver jerked awake before continuing and Ciela picked Harry up, carrying him to the other side.

"Why do I always die when I see you?" Harry asked with a groan as his head twited back into a normal position.

Ciela laughed. "I guess you're just unlucky like that, honey. Where are your relatives?"

"Inside. They're angry at me." Harry shrugged.

"For the letter?" Ciela asked.

Harry nodded, accustomed to Ciela knowing things that she had no way of knowing.

"Better go inside." Ciela told him, bending down and hugging him. "If you stay out much longer you'll catch your death."

"That is not funny, Ela." Harry glared before crossing the road and going back to his relatives. Dudley was asleep and Vernon was snoring in front of the TV. Petunia glared at Harry as he walked in.

"Go clean yourself up and get to bed."

"Yes, Aunt Petunia." Harry said quietly, going and washing his face and teeth before changing and getting into bed. He got to sleep quickly despite Dudley's snoring as he actually had a proper bed.

* * *

I edited this a bit from the version on my livejournal, but not a whole lot :)


	3. Chapter 3

"_If death meant just leaving the stage long enough to change costume and come back as a new character... Would you slow down? Or speed up?"_

_- Chuck Palahniuk_

Chapter Three

Harry awoke to a banging on the door of their motel room. Even Dudley had woken up from it, and he was trembling in the corner of the room.

Harry got up and tiptoed to the door, opening it hesitantly.

"Harry!" The person on the other side rumbled. Harry let him in, examining the man. His eyes nearly bugged out as he saw the man's head brushing the ceiling. He had a wild beard and was a terrifying height, but he seemed nice enough.

"Er... who are you?" Harry questioned as Petunia and Vernon crossed the hall to see what the commotion was.

"I'm Rubeus Hagrid – keeper o' Grounds an' Keys at Hogwarts. Mos' people just call me Hagrid. They sent me ta' see why you burned your letter after readin' it." He announced.

"I didn't – Aunt Petunia did." Harry explained, glancing to Petunia who was shaking her head furiously at him.

Hagrid turned to Petunia and Vernon as they moved forwards.

"We'll not have a Freak in our house!" Vernon growled. "Not because some old coot says that he's magic!"

Harry glanced between Hagrid and Vernon.

"So magic exists? Why did you always tell me that it didn't?" Harry asked, in a general attempt to diffuse the situation. As much as Harry wanted Vernon and Petunia to get the earbashing they deserved, angry situations usually ended up with Harry dying in some way. Unfortunately, his plan backfired.

Hagrid looked ready to explode with anger. "O' course magic ruddy exists! An' Dumbledore is the finest wizard since Merlin himself, not some old coot! Come on Harry, get changed – we're going to get your school things."

"No you are not!" Vernon stood in the doorway.

Hagrid swung his pink umbrella and Vernon squealed as a pig tail sprouted from his bottom.

"Vernon! Vernon he... you have a..." Petunia shrieked. "Get out! Get out and take the boy with you!"

Hagrid walked out and beckoned for Harry to follow him.

"That was brilliant, Hagrid! Where are we going?" Harry asked.

"Diagon Alley." Hagrid told him. "You can get all your school supplies there – I have the lis'. Maybe we could get you some birthday presents – it's only a few days away, righ'?"

Harry shook his head. "A week."

"Oh, my mistake. I ca' never get the date right." Hagrid chuckled as he hailed the night bus.

A few minutes later and Hagrid was walking Harry through the back entrance of Diagon Alley, which saw them going through St Mungo's.

"Wow, this is amazing. But how am I going to afford anything? I haven't any money." Harry asked, looking around at the magical shops in awe.

"You haven't any money?" Hagrid asked in surprise. "O' course you do, Harry! You didn' think your parents woulda' left you withou' any money when they were murdered! We're going to Gringotts, the wizard bank, and you can see fer yourself."

Harry filed that tidbit of information about his parents away – another thing that he'd been lied to about, apparently.

They walked into the grand halls and Harry read the warning quietly.

_Enter stranger, but take heed_

_Of what awaits the sin of greed_

_For those who take but do not earn,_

_Must pay dearly in their turn,_

_So if you seek beneath our floors_

_Treasure that was never yours,_

_Thief, you have been warned, beware_

_Of finding more than treasure there._

Hagrid saw Harry's face and patted his shoulder. "Ah, Goblins Harry. They're very serious 'bout money."

"Goblins run the bank?" Harry asked in surprise.

Hagrid nodded. "Nothin' a goblin likes more than a bit 'o gold. It was part 'o the treaty to stop Goblin's warrin' against Wizards."

Harry nodded and followed Hagrid further into the bank, to the nearest teller.

"I am Griphook and I will be helping you today." The Goblin said gruffly, obviously not caring for pleasantries.

"Ah, we need ta access the Potter vault." Hagrid said, pulling the key out of his pocket. "An' collect th' you-know-what from vault 713."

Griphook examined the key and huffed. "Follow me."

They followed Griphook into the rail cart and Harry held on very tightly to the safety bar. He knew how his luck went and dying, while not as bad for him as for everyone else, was really inconvenient and very bloody painful.

They stopped off at the Potter vault and Harry silently got some of his parents' gold. He went very quickly, after hearing Griphook talk about the security of these vaults – He very quickly decided that he didn't fancy being killed by a glorified door.

They got in the cart again and Harry subtly leant away from Hagrid, seeing the shade of green the giant man was turning. This turned out to be a mistake, as the safety bar malfunctioned and Harry went flying out of the cart on a particularly fast turn, skewering himself against a stalagmite.

He woke up a few moments later to Hagrid yelling "Harry!"

"I'm fine, Hagrid!" He yelled to reassure Hagrid before gritting his teeth and lifting himself off the stalagmite. The hole in his stomach healed up fairly quickly but it still hurt a hell of a lot.

Hagrid and Griphook jumped out of the cart and hurried over to Harry where he was looking around in the darkness.

"Blimey Harry, wha' happened to your clothes?" Hagrid asked in amazement. Harry glanced down and saw a large gash in the material and a bloodstain – he assumed there was a matching one on the back.

"I must have hit a sharp rock." Harry said as an excuse, pulling on his jacket to hide the hole on the back.

Griphook looked rather worried. "Our safety mechanisms have never malfunctioned before, Mr Potter. You should have been killed."

Harry shrugged. "Yeah, I'm lucky like that."

Hagrid beamed at the reference to the Avada Kedavra rebounding but Griphook glared at Harry suspiciously before loading them back into the cart and taking it at a slower pace to vault 713.

"Here was are, sirs." Griphook grumbled as they got out. Harry looked at the door in surprise – it didn't have a keyhole, but a long groove down the middle. Griphook ran his long nail down the groove and the door began to clank, opening slowly.

Harry strained his neck to see inside, expecting some gigantic pile of diamonds or some special wand that was invaluable. Instead there was a fist-sized package wrapped in brown paper.

"What's that, Hagrid?" Harry asked.

Hagrid reached and put it in one of his many pockets. "Ah, that's Dumbledore's business – Dumbledore and Nicholas Flamel's. Best just push it out o' yer mind."

They were silent for the rest of the ride up as Hagrid once again turned a rather awful shade of green on the cart ride.

"Now, how about I go and pick up yer books for you while you go get yer wand an' cloaks?" Hagrid asked brightly before they separated through the crowd. Madam Malkin's was surprisingly empty and some of the pre-made robes only needed the hem taken up to fit Harry, so it only took a few minutes.

"You're a bit early for a shopping trip - normally they don't start coming for a few days." Madam Malkins chatted as she pinned the hem. "Trying to miss the rush?"

"Yeah." Harry nodded, going with her kindly provided excuse.

"Very smart - we run out of pre-made robes very quickly. You'd have to be here for hours otherwise - all done. Drop back in once you're done shopping and I'll give them to you." Madam Malkins waved him off and Harry wandered out to Ollivander's.

Ollivander spoke very little after saying hello and telling him what his parents' wands were like. However Harry's initial impression that it would be a quick buy was disproved very early.

After he'd tested his thirty seventh wand Ollivander, who was looking thoroughly elated by the presence of a hard-to-please customer, decided that Harry should try a different method.

"Walk down the halls. When you feel an affinity to a certain box, tell me and we'll test it." Ollivander told him.

Harry walked slowly down the rows of wands, not feeling anything. After ten minutes he felt a pull to two boxes.

"Curious." Ollivander said as he pulled out both of them. "Rarely does a wizard naturally have more than one wand. Try this." He handed Harry a basic Holly wand. "Eleven inches, holly and Phoenix feather, nice and supple."

Harry only had to pick up the wand for his arm to tingle and gold sparks to appear at the end of it.

"Curious, curious." Ollivander said again, taking the other wand out. "Ten an a half inches, african mahogany and a peri hair. Good for channelling lots of power in a short amount of time but also capable of delicate work." The wand itself was not a beginner wand like the others he'd tested and it had carvings of what looked like faeries down the side.

Harry held the wand and felt a cool reaction, a direct contrast to the warm one he'd had from his holly wand.

"Um... how do I know which one to use?" He questioned.

"You'll know. Some people have wands that they rarely use – well-known healers usually have a wand that they use specifically for healing magical burns and another wand for all other magic." Ollivander said. "That'll be fifty one galleons and fourteen sickles."

"You finished?" Hagrid asked happily as Harry finally walked out. "I remember when I got my firs' wand. Thirteen inches, walnut and unicorn hair. Pity it was snapped when I was expelled, bu' I still got the pieces." He winked at Harry, tapping his umbrella on the ground. "What's your wand?"

"The first one is holly and phoenix feather and the second is African mahogany and peri hair." Harry said, showing Hagrid them.

"You have two?" Hagrid asked, his eyebrows shooting up. "Ah, you're destined for greatness, you are!"

Hagrid continued to ramble for most of the walk out of the Alley and Harry gathered that Ollivander understated the importance of having two wands just a little.

They went back through St Mungos and took the night bus to the center of the village where the motel was located. On the walk back, Harry decided it was a perfect time to ask about his lives.

"Hagrid, do wizards die as easily as muggles?" Harry asked.

"Yes, bu' powerful wizards can take longer ta starve ta death." Hagrid said. "You're a special case, Harry – it was a miracle you survived when you were a baby."

Harry nodded. "But I meant-"

There was a crack and the tree they were walking under dropped a huge branch right above Harry. Harry braced himself for it to hit when Hagrid grabbed his collar and dragged him out of the way.

"Blimey, Harry! You've nearly died twice today! Are you alrigh'?" He asked.

Harry gathered all the answers he needed from that statement and his heart sank. So he was a freak even among wizards.

Ciela waved from across the road and he nodded to her, too disappointed to smile, vaguely wondering why she was glaring at Hagrid.

* * *

A/N: Peris (plural of Peri) are from Iranian mythology and they are fallen angels (originally they were malevolent but they're typically benevolent) who have been denied paradise until they have done penence. They're considered a type of faerie, hence the carvings in the wood. I figure that seeing as they're immortal and have to do with the afterlife, Harry would have a connection to them (due to his magic changing to accommodate his extra lives and all). The mahogany was simply because it looks cool. And I couldn't resist giving him an extra wand :)


	4. Chapter 4

"_Of all the wonders that I yet have heard,_

_It seems to me most strange that men should fear,_

_Seeing that death, a necessary end,_

_Will come when it will come."  
- Shakespeare_

"Platform nine and three quarters." Harry muttered, looking at the ticket. As a general rule he wasn't fond of trains, as being run over one was surprisingly painful. As of yet there had not been a single instance where he had safely navigated a train station.

He blinked in surprise as he thought he saw a red haired woman and her daughter walk through a brick wall from the corner of his eye.

"Great. Hallucinations." He said, edging towards the middle of the platform.

A bushy-haired girl bustled past him with her parents. "The book said that you walk through that wall to get through platform nine and three quarters. Clever, isn't it?"

Her father smiled. "One day you'll be able to make walls like that."

"Probably not, you know. Rowena Ravenclaw herself made that wall."

Harry walked over carefully. "Um, excuse me? I'm supposed to be going to Hogwarts but I don't know how to get through the wall..."

Hermione smiled brightly. "You just walk through it. Anybody can get through once they know that they can – it only keeps out people who want to hurt the children. Dad, walk through with...?"

"Harry."

"Right. I'm Hermione Granger. Dad, walk through with Harry." Hermione commanded.

Mr and Mrs Granger shared an amused look before Mr Granger turned to Harry. "Lead the way, my boy."

Once they got through the wall, Mr Granger patted his shoulder. "Sorry about Hermione – she gets bossy when she's nervous."

"It's fine, Mr Granger." Harry said as Mrs Granger and Hermione entered.

"Oh, we put our bags over there." Hermione noted aloud. "Come on, Harry." She hugged her parents. "It'll leave in a few minutes so you may as well not stick around. I'll write, okay?"

"Alright sweetheart." They bade her goodbye before Hermione led Harry over to the bag carriage.

"The train used to be a series of carriages on a walled road, you know. As the years go it changes to suit the surroundings." She chattered as they found a compartment with a boy who mumbled his name as Neville.

"Why does it look so old then?" Harry asked.

"They have records of the tracks from the eighteen hundreds – it's supposed to be a tourist trip, according to the government. It would be suspicious if it suddenly became modern." Hermione said brightly.

"I don't suppose either of you have seen a toad? Mine has disappeared." Neville asked, speaking up.

"No, sorry." Harry said with a shrug, taking a seat next to the window, right in the corner so that any sprays of glass would miss him.

"If you want we can ask around." Hermione offered. "We have a few hours to spare anyway."

"Would you? Thanks so much!" Neville babbled, before flushing. "Um, I'm Neville Longbottom."

"Hermione Granger, and this is Harry... what's your last name?" Hermione asked.

"Potter." Harry said.

It took about twenty minutes for Hermione to stop telling Harry about his own childhood and they were all getting ready to search for Trevor when the door opened and a redhead boy poked his head in.

"Oi, mind if I join? There are no compartments." He asked.

They all nodded and the redhead sat down. "I'm Ron Weasley."

"Have you seen a toad?" Neville asked. "I lost my one – he croaks when you say Trevor."

"Nope." Ron said. "But honestly, you should just let him go. I know that I would be happy if I had a toad and it ran off. They're a bit... well..."

Hermione glared at Ron. "You insensitive prat."

"Excuse me?" Ron asked.

"Neville has lost his pet and you say something like that to him?" Hermione asked incredulously. "Come on Harry, Neville. Lets go try and find Trevor."

They followed her meekly, Harry eventually finding Trevor in the prefects' compartment, before returning to a much quieter Ron.

"So, who are you guys?" He asked hesitantly.

"Neville," Hermione said, pointing, "Harry, and I'm Hermione Granger." Hermione introduced them all as Harry sat down as close to the door as possible. Ron had taken his glass-shielding window seat.

"So, what houses are you hoping to get into?" Ron asked. "I want Gryffindor, of course – it's obviously the best house. Slytherin would be awful, 'cause everyone knows that they're dark wizards. I suppose Ravenclaw would be all right. Hufflepuff would just be dreadful though."

"I'm hoping for Gryffindor too, or I won't hear the end of it from Nan." Neville said. "But I think I'll be lucky to get into Hufflepuff."

"Well I'm aiming for Ravenclaw." Hermione said. "Obviously that must be where the smart ones go, if you don't want to go there." She looked pointedly at Ron and he glared at her.

"I don't really know." Harry said, trying to diffuse the situation. "I mean, they all have good and bad. And reputations aren't always true." For example, his reputation as a delinquent, which was carefully created by the Dursleys to keep the neighbours from talking to him.

The door opened and a Ravenclaw prefect poked her head in. "Okay guys, we're going to be there in an hour so you should start getting your stuff ready."

Neville groaned as she closed the door. "What am I going to do with Trevor? I tripped and his cage broke and now..."

"Here, I'll fix it!" Hermione said happily. Ron muttered something derogatory about suck-ups under his breath as she took out her wand. "Reparo!"

Neville thanked her and put Trevor away as they took out their carry bags and began to get changed.

Harry nearly punched the air in happiness as he safely got away from the train, suddenly cheerful. If he could survive a train, he could survive anything – metaphorically, that was.

However his heart once again sunk at the sight of the boats.

"Don't worry, Harry." Hermione said kindly. "They're charmed so you can never fall out."

The word charmed suddenly seemed very weak to Harry. He would have preferred enchanted or unbreakably spelled.

He sat in the middle of the two person boat while Hermione sat up the front next to the lights.

"Wow, Harry! Look at the castle!" Hermione suddenly looked uncertain. "Do you think they discriminate against muggleborns like me?"

"If they do, they're idiots." Harry said. "You'll be fine – you can already do some spells. You're probably way better than the purebloods already."

Hermione took a slow breath. "We'll stay friends though, right? If we don't have friends in our own houses, even if we get in different ones."

"Of course." Harry promised, smiling. _If I don't drown on the way across here. That would be really brilliant, wouldn't it. Getting so close to somewhere I'd belong and then having them all think I'm dead._

Hermione smiled brightly as the boat bumped the opposite shore and they trooped up to the Great Hall nervously, glowing white lanterns lining the stone path.

They waited up in the castle for a teacher, near silent with pure nerves.

"I heard that Harry Potter is here!" A petite blonde boy said, walking up the front. His eyes locked on Harry's scar. "So it's true."  
Harry nodded.

"You want to get away from that mudblood, you know. Some people should be avoided at all costs – especially those of her... class." He wrinkled his nose at her.

"Shut up, Malfoy!" Neville spoke up, blood rushing to his cheeks on Hermione's behalf.

"You wouldn't know class if it hit you in the face." Ron chortled.

Malfoy flushed angrily and was about to respond before an old woman professor walked into the room and gave him a stern look. He huffily walked back to his friends in the crowd.

"That's Draco Malfoy." Neville whispered to Harry and Hermione. "He's from a famously Dark pureblood family. His father was a Death Eater."

The old woman shushed the whispers that had broken out. "I am Professor McGonagall and I am Deputy Headmistress here at Hogwarts. In a few minutes I will lead you into the Great Hall to be sorted. Here, your house will be like your family; you will eat with them, go to classes with them, spend free time with them and live with them. I expect you all to be on your best behaviour and to bring honour and respect to your house. Once you are sorted you will go to your House table and wait for Headmaster Dumbledore's speech. Do we all understand?" She asked.

They were silent and she took that for a yes, leading them into the Great Hall.

"Wow..." Harry murmured, looking up at where the ceiling should be. Did they use charms instead of a ceiling?

"It's not really missing. It's charmed to look like the outside weather." Hermione told him. "It said so in Hogwarts: A History."

Up ahead was a raggedy old hat on a stool. They stopped in front of it, all confused as to what was going on. Suddenly, a rip in the hat's brim opened and it began to sing.

Harry didn't catch a single word of what it was saying between his own amazement at the ceiling, floating candles and talking hat and Hermione's whispered talking about the charms of the hat ("Godric Gryffindor _himself_ owned the hat and he made it back when Hogwarts was first started, in four thousand and... oh, what was the date? Ah, that's right, -")

Everyone clapped when the song ended and McGonagall lifted her list.

"Abbot, Hannah."

Hannah wandered up, fidgeting unsurely as she sat on the stool and Professor McGonagall placed the hat on her head.

"Hufflepuff!" It announced after a moment.

A huge cheer went up from the Hufflepuff table and Hannah stumbled over, taking a seat at the student-less near end. A few prefects clapped her on the back and shook her hand as the next name was called.

After what seemed like an age, Hermione was called up.

"Granger, Hermione!"

The hat sat on her head for longer than the average time before the rip opened and it announced "Ravenclaw!" to the waiting students.

More names passed and Neville was sorted into Gryffindor. At Harry's turn the entire hall went silent and Harry became doubly nervous.

'_Oh, my. You are a difficult one, aren't you? Bravery, that's for sure, but more caution than most Gryffindors – that'd be because of the deaths, assume. And equally balanced is Slytherin - The ability to plan, to be tactful, to be sly. Those are more learned than innate, but still the ability is within you. This is a difficult choice.' _When Harry had no input, the hat turned to another train of thought. _'My, my! What is this? Parseltongue. That solves it – _"Slytherin!"

The Slytherin house was deadly silent as Harry went and sat down at the table, and he saw shocked looks pass among the house. The head of Slytherin, an unpleasant-looking man with greasy black hair, glared at him as if it was his fault he was sorted there.

_Can I get another go?_ He asked internally, catching Hermione's sympathetic eyes from across the hall. He sighed, then did a double take as he thought he saw Ciela looking thoughtful through the window.

* * *

Here you go Seloniath. Writing shall speed up - until exams, that is.


	5. Chapter 5

"_On a large enough timeline, the survival rate of everyone drops to zero."_

– _Arthur Schopenhouer_

"So, Potty." Malfoy smiled as Harry put his things down at the end of his bed. "I think you'll find that here, you won't be able to lord over us like you undoubtedly do at home."

Harry didn't speak. Lesson number one in life had been don't cause fights, as being beaten to death was highly unpleasant – and you were sore afterwards for months.

"Are you mute as well as dumb?" Malfoy asked. His goons guffawed behind him. "It wouldn't surprise me. The curse obviously addled your brains."

_'Addled? Really, Malfoy?_ _You talk like Mrs Figg'_ Harry commented mentally but he kept it to himself.

"Oh, lets leave the poor retard to put his things away. It's obviously taking all of his concentration." Malfoy huffed, storming out of the dorm. Only a few minutes later Harry was called to Snape's office.

"I hear, Mr Potter, that you have been harassing your dorm mates?" Snape drawled.

"No, sir." Harry said, attempting to explain. "Malfoy was-"

"Don't lie to me." Snape spat. "Arrogant and stupid, just like your father. How you got into my house, I'll never know."

"Sir, I-"

"Be quiet, brat!" Snape practically yelled before his voice fell to almost a whisper. "Let me make this very clear, Potter. Your are not, and never will be, welcome in Slytherin. You are a drain on resources, lazy, arrogant and a trouble-maker."

_You said arrogant twice. _Harry thought, angry and humiliated.

"Get out of my sight." Snape spat.

Harry fled, storming up to the dorms, past the sneers of his housemates.

"Ha. That'll teach you. And wait until my father hears that you've been put in my dorm." Draco said gleefully as Harry entered the dorm.

Harry simply finished putting away his clothing before getting changed and getting into bed. He knew full well that this was a fight he wouldn't win. It was as futile as trying to convince the Dursleys that magic was benevolent.

The next morning his robes had been charmed bright orange.

"See you at breakfast, Potty!" Malfoy called as he walked out the room, smirking at the robes on Harry's bed.

Blaise Zabini looked at Harry's clothes. "Are you going to wear them?"

"Do I have another option?" Harry asked.

Zabini raised an eyebrow. "You're a Slytherin, you dolt. Look in the freaking charm book for an end charm spell."

Harry flushed and opened his book, finding it and performing it successfully on Malfoy's poorly done (but effective) charm.

"Thanks."

Zabini shrugged. "Hey, I'm a light sleeper."

"What?" Harry frowned.

Darren Parkinson sighed impatiently. "He means that if you got detention you'd wake us all up as you got in late. Merlin, what was the hat thinking?"

Harry flushed and got dressed quickly, fleeing the dorm with his school books.

Hermione was waiting by the great hall, looking equally miserable.

"What's wrong?" He asked as they entered.

"The others don't like me." She said. As if to prove her point, a group of Ravenclaw first years walked past and whispers of _boot licker_ were heard.

"I'm not sitting at the Slytherin table so we may as well sit in Ravenclaw." Harry suggested. "And I'm sure you'll beat them all when it comes to actual magic."

Hermione brightened a tiny bit at this, but still hesitated before saying "I don't want to sit at Ravenclaw, they'll probably charm my food to disappear or something."

"Well that leaves Hufflepuff and Gryffindor." Harry said with a shrug.

"Hufflepuff." Hermione decided, leading Harry towards the end of the middle-right table. "Gryffindors will probably hex you, being a Slytherin and all."

Harry sat down quietly, grabbing some food. Other Hufflepuffs filed in and made sure to leave a large gap around Harry and Hermione.

A bell rang and hordes of blank timetables floated down from the teacher's bench, going to a student before colouring to show their lessons.

"Oh, we're in house groups." Harry sighed. "Slytherin/Gryffindor Defence, Potions and Herbology. Hufflepuff/Slytherin charms, and Ravenclaw/Slytherin flying, transfiguration and private study."

"At least we're together for private study." Hermione said. "It's mostly Hufflepuff with me, I think. That shouldn't be too bad, they're alright."

"Lucky you. I can't get away from bloody Slytherin." Harry said.

"It'll probably get better, you know." Hermione said. "I bet that by the end of the days we'll have at least some friendly aquaintances."

They didn't.

"Potter! What would you get if you mixed a fusion of asphodel and wormwood?"

"I don't know, sir."

There was a titter of laughter around the classroom.

"Pity. Seems that fame isn't everything." Snape sneered. "Find out and write me a foot-long essay on your answer, Potter."

Harry scribbled down his homework on his parchment where he'd been taking notes, trying not to notice the smirks of everyone in the dungeon.

Eventually they were sent to do practical work and Harry was paired with Neville.

"Hiya, Harry." Neville greeted. "How is Slytherin?"

Harry shrugged. "They don't like me. Is Gryffindor any good?"

"It's okay. They think I'm odd, but they're decent to me." Neville said, crushing some beetle eyes.

"No, you're supposed to cut those." Harry pointed out.

"Do you think it'll matter?" Neville asked, glancing between the beetle eyes and the instructions on the blackboard.

"Yes." Harry decided - even if it didn't, it wouldn't hurt to be cautious.

"I'll go get some more." Neville said sadly. Harry felt a bit bad but he didn't want the potion blowing up in his face like it undoubtedly would knowing his luck, so he'd apologise later.

Once they'd finished preparing the ingredients they turned on the heat under the cauldron and began the soothing potion. It went fairly well until Neville accidentally put crushed beetle eyes into the potion, instead of the sliced ones.

"Neville, stop!" Harry called, just a bit too late. Snape just had time to cast a shield around the other students before the cauldron exploded, shards of it flying everywhere while the potion flew up in the air and misted up the unshielded area.

Neville yelled in pain as a thick chunk of cauldron smacked him in the forehead while Harry didn't have the breath to yell as half the rim of the cauldron speared him in the lung and several other shards embedded themselves in his skin.

The mist was too thick to see through and the room was suddenly deadly silent, punctuated only by a clang as the piece of cauldron fell out of Harry's chest and hit the stone floor.

The mist disappeared as Snape flicked his wand and he scowled at Harry and Neville's bloodied forms.

"Potter, does your stupidity know no bounds? Did I not tell you to slice the beetle eyes?" Snape growled.

"Sir, it was me, not Harry. He tried to stop-" Neville began.

"Quiet, Longbottom!" Snape said. "Weasley, accompany Longbottom and Potter up to the hospital ward."

They left silently, Harry fuming and Neville shocked at Snape's obvious hatred of Harry.

"Wow." Neville said. "What a prat."

"So, Potter." Ron began smugly. "Nice try."

"What?" Harry snapped.

"You know, to take out Neville. You failed, you know." Ron smirked.

Neville faltered. "You weren't trying to... were you?"

"No!" Harry said, outraged. "I tried to stop you, remember? Shut up, Weasley, you don't know what you're talking about."

"Don't believe him Neville, he's a Slytherin. He probably bought Voldemort to kill his parents with accidental magic anyway." Ron said, a slight challenge in his voice.

Luckily they reached the hospital ward at that point and Madam Pomfrey came rushing out to treat them and shooed Ron back to class.

* * *

I know that Neville is a bit OOC, so sorry about that - however I do feel that he'd be more confident if he was actually friends with some people (Hermione and Harry) than if he was a loner like in the real books.

Seloniath: Well I figured that if Harry wasn't swayed by Ron to Gryffindor then he'd go to Slytherin, but as he was balanced pretty evenly between the two the sorting hat would add Parseltongue to the Slytherin list. I personally see it is a part of the hat's job to put them in a place where their innate abilities would be accepted; unfortunately the hat would also be unlikely to really pay attention to all the stigma about the houses, as that would probably change every hundred years or so anyway.

I mean no disrespect to people with disabilities by Draco's comment, I just picture it as the sort of thing first-year Draco would say! :)


	6. Chapter 6

**A/N: **It's a little short, but I am currently pushing myself out of a writer's block while studying for exams. Sorry for the wait :)

Chapter 6

"_The first step to Eternal Life is that you have to die."_

_- Chuck Palahniuk_

Despite the week or so Harry spent dreading the Halloween Feast, it turned out to be quite bareable. Ron, Dean and Seamus were all at detention for attempting to duel Draco Malfoy.

"It's such a pity you have to be a third year to go to Hogsmead. I hear it's really wonderful." Hermione sighed as she served herself some pudding. "Rowena Ravenclaw organised its creation because she felt the Hogwarts Students needed somewhere to-"

"Hermione, I really don't care about Hogsmead."

Hermione paused. "I can definitely see why you could have gone to Gryffindor."

"Thanks?"

"It wasn't a compliment."

Before Harry could come up with a reply the doors opened and Quirrel ran in.

"Troll! Troll in the dungeon!" He paused, swaying. "Just thought you ought to know..." Then he fainted.

Harry frowned, thinking about the people he'd seen faint. Quirrel's faint did not look realistic at all.

As the students began to scream, Hermione turned to him, eyes wide.

"Weasley is doing detention in the dungeon. With Filch."

"He'll be fine then." Harry said, getting up at the signal of his house prefect.

"No, you don't get it! When Filch has detention with more than one person he'll usually send one down to the dungeon and supervise the others. Nobody dares to act up in the dungeon anyway, Snape would have their hide." Hermione whispered. "Weasley wouldn't have a clue about the troll."

"Granger!" The Ravenclaw Prefect yelled.

"Coming!" She called back before turning to Harry. "We need to warn him."

Harry paused before sighing. "Bloody stupid git. Okay, I'll meet you at the portrait of that woman in a wedding dress."

Hermione nodded and walked quickly over to her house group as Harry jogged to catch up with the Slytherins, who had left without him.

A few minutes later they were down in the dungeons, breathless from running.

"What's that smell?" Harry asked, resisting the urge to gag.

"Probably the troll. Wild trolls often disorientate their prey with their smell before-"

"Hermione. Now is not the time."

"Right. Sorry."

They both jumped behind a pillar as they watched the troll walk over to the girl's bathroom – the one Weasley was cleaning.

"We should get a teacher." Hermione squeaked, fidgeting nervously.

"Oh, come on! We can't let him die, even if he is a git." Harry walked over to the bathroom and looked in.

The troll was busy happily destroying the cubicles while Weasley cowered under the sink, whimpering.

It raised it's club to hit Weasley and Harry did the only thing he could think of, which happened to be grabbing the club as the troll pulled it back. This was not a terribly effective tactic as it deposited Harry on the trolls shoulders, although it did save Weasley's life temporarily.

"Harry!" Hermione yelled in fear as the troll decided it didn't like Harry.

"Do something!" Harry yelled as the troll thrashed its head around and tried to hit him.

"Wingardium leviosa!" Hermione said desperately. The club slipped from the troll's hand and hung in midair above the troll's head.

It only had time to look up in surprise before the troll dropped on its skull and sent it crashing to the floor, crushing Harry in the process and sending him flying into the splintered wood of the toilet cubicles.

He didn't have time to groan as one at a particularly bad angle skewered him through the stomach. Under the cover of the pieces burying him, he lifted himself off it and watched as it healed before he died momentarily from shock.

"Harry!" Hermione called, running over.

"I'm fine." Harry said, lifting himself out of the rubble. "Just sore."

"Blimey..." Weasley whispered. "Why did you do that for me? You could have died!"

"We couldn't let it kill you, could we?" Harry asked. "Even if you are a bullying git."

Weasley nudged the troll with his foot. "Is it dead?"

"No. Nobody has ever been able to kill a troll by smacking its head. I expect it's just unconscious." Hermione informed them.

The teachers raced in the room and froze in shock.

"Messrs Weasley and Potter, Miss Granger – what on Earth happened here?" Professor McGonagall asked, staring at the troll's body.

"Well... I had detention and was down here cleaning when the troll came. Potter and Granger knew and came to stop it killing me, Professor." Ron said bluntly.

"Very well." McGonagall looked between them and then to the professors behind her. Flitwick looked ridiculously proud of Hermione, while Sprout looked impressed and Snape anything but. "Fifty points to Ravenclaw and Slytherin."

Harry and Hermione grinned before Harry spotted Snape's bleeding leg. Seeing his stare, Snape quickly shifted his cloak over it and turned to limp away while the students were instructed to go to bed.

"What's wrong?" Hermione asked as soon as they were out of earshot.

"Snape's leg is bleeding. He's up to something." Harry whispered. "I think the troll was a distraction."

"It could have killed someone. He's not that bad, surely-"

"Maybe he didn't intend for anyone to be in the dungeon." Harry whispered. "If Thomas and Finnigan weren't on detention, Weasley would have been upstairs anyway. I don't think he expected more than one detention today."

"But Harry, he's a teacher-"

"Teachers aren't saints, Hermione. I think that Snape was trying to get whatever is on the third floor corridor."

Hermione paused outside the Ravenclaw portrait with Harry.

"Okay. Tomorrow after classes we should try and figure this out more. Right now I think I need sleep. Good night, Harry."

"Night, Hermione." Harry began his walk to the lower end of the dungeon, his mind practically whirring.

* * *

Okay, now that I re-read this, it isn't a particularly great chapter. Never mind. Constructive crit would be particularly appreciated, but I like all reviews :)


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